Captain's Log
by whitetyger123
Summary: I am the Captain of the pirate ship Victory. We have taken over this ship. And you?" "I am Alfred, official stow-away of this ship. So I guess this means I'm your problem now." A story about pirate!England who meets pickpocket!Alfred. Yaoi, boy on boy.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur Kirkland smiled ruthlessly at the man in front of him. The man's eyes went wide as the long sword was pulled with a wet sound out of his chest. The English captain put his booted foot on the man's chest, kicking him into the frothy waters below. Then, while watching the doomed man fall, he took out a spotless handkerchief and wiped the blood from his sword.

Turning on his heel, England walked to one of his men who had also just killed a man from the enemy ship. "William. What nationality are these people?" His accent was proper and commanding. No one could deny a thing he said, without fearing for his life.

"French, sir. Almost made me want to rip out my bloody ears." Will had never been called by his full name in his life until he met Captain Kirkland. None of the crew minded, though. Having a civilized pirate as a captain was always entertaining.

Cruel English lips turned up in a vicious smile. "Perfect." Gracefully, he swept up onto the nearest barrel, bringing him above the heads of the two fighting crews. "Take no prisoners! I just want the gold!"

From the members on his ship, the _Victory_, there were general cries of "ay". The small crew from the French vessel hadn't been prepared for attack, so they stood no chance. Not that many of the victim ships England chose to board ever had much chance. He was, after all, ruler of the Seven Seas.

An enraged Frenchman came at him, scimitar in hand. "Flibustier! You will not take me alive!"

Arthur leaped down from the barrel as the man's curved sword went to swipe where his feet had been seconds ago. "If you had not heard what I just said," He held up his cutlass, stopping the other man from chopping off his head, "I care nothing for living Frenchmen. Simply the gold you carry."

The man was obviously not trained with his sword. Captain Kirkland was simply toying with him at this point; he could have finished him off long ago. For a second he gave a courteous smile. The man looked almost like France.

Both their weapons held above their heads in a hopeless war over strength, England reached into his coat. "And now, you will die." He took out his pistol and shot the man in the chest. His eyes grew wide as crimson stained his white shirt. "How does it feel, having been killed by a pirate?"

The Frenchman fell, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Arthur wiped a speck of dust off his sleeve and put one polished boot on the man's chest. "Damn. I waisted a bullet."

Letting his men deal with the last few fighting idiots, the refined British man started to search the inside of the ship. He looked around in disgust. His may be a pirate ship, but at least it was spotless. A threat of death was always a good thing to get deckhands to go the extra mile. He took out a scarf and put it to his nose. It stank of French.

Where was that bloody gold? Why Francis would entrust such a large sum of money to these ingrates was a mystery. The man thought too much with the wrong end of his body.

From deeper in the ship, he heard something clanging. Just to be safe, he took out his sword. He shouldn't have used that bullet.

"Hey! What's going on out there! I'm hungry!"

The voice did not sound either English nor French. In fact, Arthur couldn't decide what accent it held. It was more like... the absence of an accent. How could that be? He walked slowly toward the sound, not bothering to quiet his footsteps. The sound of the dying battle above him was different from this new one, so he was sure it was on the same level.

Turning a corner, he found a small cell, with a boy inside. Well, he said boy, but in truth he had younger men in his crew.

He smiled, even if he was behind bars. "Hey, you don't look French. What's going on up there?" He sat on a box, completely at ease with his situation. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Francis would have surly molested him already, but England had more class.

"I am the Captain of the pirate ship Victory. We have taken over this ship. And you?" He took a step closer. Perhaps this strange boy could help him find the gold, instead of having to spend the whole day looking for it.

"I am Alfred, official stow-away of this ship. So I guess this means I'm your problem now." He stood up and put his arms through the bars, leaning on them. "How about you let me out of here? Sir." He added with a mocking smile.

"Well, you see, Alfred, I do not need useless people on my ship. So, unless you have a skill that would be useful to me, I have no reason to let you out of here, so you will drown when we sink the _Altaï__r_._"_

"It was once said that I could steal the jacket off a homeless person in the middle of winter." That smug smile never wavered as England looked him up and down with a calculating gaze.

Turning on his heel, Arthur left the cocky man, still standing there with his arms through the bars. By the sounds of things on deck, every last Frenchman was dead, and his men were searching for loot. All fine with him. He let them keep little trinkets they found. What he cared about was gold, and he needed a lot of it. He was, after all, a nation.

With a smile of success he found the Captains study. Was the gold in there? Even if it wasn't, there was bound to be something useful.

Drawer after drawer, all he found were papers, and all in French. It wasn't even worth the headache of reading that poor excuse of a language, considering the size of the ship. A Captain more important would have better protection, and if the Captain wasn't important, then he wouldn't know any important information. In fact, a few of the wars with the frog had ended with him finding documents of ambushes or whatnot on ships he raided.

Finally, in the last drawer, he found a ring of keys. Now this might be useful.

He quickly looked around the rest of the room, finding nothing more that half a bottle of rum. He shrugged and drank the rest. It would be at the bottom of the sea soon, so what did it matter?

Perhaps it was that delicious burn of alcohol that made him go back to the imprisoned man. He smiled as Arthur once again walked around the corner. "I knew you would be back."

"Do you know where to find the gold?" He asked, not wanting to waist more time. His men would soon be wondering where he was.

"Why, me? I'm just a prisoner, why would I know anything?" Alfred said with mock innocence. At Arthur's annoyed stare, he laughed. "I even know where the mice hide their cheese."

Arthur nodded and stepped forward, keys in hand. The third one he tried opened it, and the door swung open on rusty hinges. "If you try anything, your death will be slow and painful."

"Aye, Sir." He said with an exaggerated bow. "Follow me to the treasure." He walked through some small and swaying hallways until they entered a storage room. "Here you are."

"This had better not be a trick, Alfred. For your sake, there had better be gold."

With a swoop of his hand, Alfred stamped on a part of the floor. A trap door opened, revealing a rather large bag of gold coins. "Your treasure, Captain sir. You know you never told me your name, Kirkland."

"Then how do you know it?" He asked, bending down to pick up a coin. He bit it. Definitely real.

"Well, even a poor pickpocket has heard of the famous pirate ship Victory, captained by the brutal Arthur Kirkland. Who would have known he can also be mistaken for an English Nobleman?"

"Shut up and carry this gold, deckhand. I hope you can work a mop as well as your mouth." With that, the pirate turned around and walked out the door. He would have gotten lost if not for his knowledge of so many different types of ships. He heard footsteps behind him, heavier now that they were laden with gold.

He went outside and greeted his crew. "Well, lads, it will never be said that the Victory is a ship full of cowards! Now, let us return to our fine ship. I am staring to wreak of French." There was a cheer as the men gathered up their possessions and went to the side of the deck, where their hooks still hung.

He patted one of the younger men on the back. "Edmund, when you get over there, would you mind sending another line?" He asked kindly. The boy was a good fighter, even if he was quite small.

"Yes, sir." And like a good crewman, he didn't ask questions.

Arthur turned to see Alfred with the bag of gold. "Have you ever done this before? You just swing over." He took the heavy bag from him. It was probably better if he didn't have to hold onto something else for his first time.

"Alright. Looks fun." He smiled cockily again. If he wanted to be a good underling, he would have to stop that. Arthur handed him a line, so he wrapped it around his hand a few times and stood on the railing. As he jumped off, he gave a loud whooping sound, the smile on his face only getting larger.

Shaking his head, Arthur grabbed onto the line that Edmund had just sent over. He jumped off gracefully, having done it countless times. He was careful not to drop the bag of gold.

.oOo.

England sat back in his chair, trying to rub his headache away. Even if he was the Captain of a pirate ship, he still had to do work as a country, a fact that he kept from his crew.

Apparently they had found a Nation on that new chunk of land discovered quite recently. Of course, that bloody frog had already tried perverting him. Perhaps he should set a new course for the _Victory_ to that place, and try to take the boy for himself.

There was a knock on the door. "Enter." He said, not even looking up. None of the crew would dare try to see what he was working on without his permission, so he needn't worry about that.

The door opened, and that blond prisoner from the French ship walked in, carrying a tray of food. "Hi there, Captain." He smiled, putting the tray down. "I was told to bring this to you, so here you go. Hope it's to your liking."

"Thank you, Alfred. Tell me, how are you faring on my ship? They usually don't take well to new boys." He carefully cut a small piece of meat and delicately put it in his mouth.

"I'm fine. Just doing random things right now." He stood still beside the door, obviously waiting to be dismissed. Perhaps he could learn manners.

England nodded and waited till he swallowed before saying, "Well, I seem to be in need of an errand boy. You will do just fine. And I have something I need you to do for me."

"Yes, sir. What do you need?"

Beckoning him closer, Arthur smiled. Alfred moved closer, but he was beckoned again. He kept waving his hand until Alfred was right in front of him, bent down slightly. England put his mouth beside his ear and whispered in a voice so quiet Alfred could barely hear, "I want you. I want you to suck my cock with those tantalizing lips, and I want you to do it until I tell you to stop."

Smiling with a seductive smile, Alfred knelt down on the floor. "Yes, Captain." He reached up, untying the strings that held the Captain's pants together. With one hand on the chair beside an English leg, he leaned forward to take out the hardening member. "Do you want anything specific?" He asked, his eyes looking up through his long lashes.

"You seem to know what you're doing. Surprise me." His smile was the one he usually wore when stabbing an enemy all the way through with his cutlass.

Somehow that cocky smile on the deckhands face didn't fade as it took in Arthur's length. It grew in his mouth, and he was proud of himself when he saw England's eyes flicker closed and his head fall back. Alfred's tongue swirled around his swollen head, holding the base of it with one hand.

Arthur put his hands in Alfred's hair, helping him move to the pace he wanted. Faster. "Mn, for a deckhand, you know your way around a cock." He moaned with a carnal smirk up at the ceiling. What a perfect way to release the tension of his headache.

Slightly annoyed with the hands on his head, the blond man on the floor continued sucking, feeling some precum drip down his throat. It wasn't like he was going to bite the person on the ship with the most authority. He could deal with the hands, since it probably meant that his life as a pirate would get easier.

"Good boy, yes, just like that." Arthur was saying quietly, opening his eyes and looking down, enjoying the sight of his prick going in and out of Alfred's talented mouth. He was a little surprised by how good he was at it. Usually people weren't this good without practice. But as his hand started moving, slightly twisting the foreskin, he stopped caring.

Relaxing his throat so he could fit all of Arthur's length into his mouth, Alfred kneaded the inside of his thigh with his free hand. The edge of the chair was digging into his stomach, so he went up on his knees, at the same time making his head bend more over the needy cock. He couldn't watch his Captain's expressions anymore, but he could put all his concentration on giving him pleasure.

Balls tightening, Arthur held down Alfred's head as he came, forcing him to swallow all of it. As the last of his semen leaked out, he let go of his head. The newly-appointed errand boy sat back on the floor, licking cum off his lips, which had once again curled into a smile. "Well, Captain, was that satisfactory?" He watched with hungry eyes as England put himself back in his pants, regaining his composure.

"Yes, that was exactly what I needed. Now, I'm sure there is something else you can be doing. Come back in half an hour to take back my dishes." He turned back around and once again bent over his papers.

With a glance at the intriguing man, Alfred left to go back to the kitchen, where he was helping out today.


	2. Chapter 2

"MAN OVERBOARD!"

The cry was heard throughout the ship, everyone looking up in concern. There was a racket as everyone ran to where the yell had come from. Arthur got there just as people were getting in the side boat to get the flailing body.

"No, it will take too long. Give me a line." Arthur said, taking off his hat. He couldn't tell who it was, but it was obvious they couldn't swim.

David looked at him, eyes wide. "Sir, you can't be serious!"

Annoyed with how slow everyone was, England grabbed a line himself. Holding it lightly in his hand, he stepped up onto the railing. "Bring the boat down to get us." And almost before his sentence was finished he had jumped off, holding the rope to slow his decent. Of course, the coarse rope tore his hands, feeling like they were on fire. He hardly even noticed as they started to bleed.

He reached the water with a splash, landing only a few yards from the fallen man. He quickly swam to him, and arrived there just as he slipped under the waves. A steady hand down and he caught him, bringing him to the surface. Once he did, he held the rope tighter so they wouldn't be left behind. The ship was still moving, after all.

"Ah, Edmund! What happened, did you take a straight walk and forget you were on a boat?" Arthur gave a laugh that was almost completely drown out by the sound of the waves crashing around them. The cold salt water made his hands sting more, but he was just glad they hadn't lost a man.

"S-sir?! Oh, I'm so sorry, sir! I-" He slurred, coughing up some water.

"It's fine. It'll be just a minute. They are bringing a boat." He looked to the ship and saw the small boat already in the water. "You'll be fine, lad, just hold on to me."

.oOo.

Arthur sat in his chair in his cabin, Alfred bandaging his hands. "Why didn't you want the doctor to bandage them? Sir." He added as a second thought. Not that he no longer considered Arthur to be his Captain. After that display today, all doubts had been washed from his mind.

"He's busy with Edmund. He hit his head when he fell, and swallowed a lot of water." He said, leaning back and closing his eyes. The pain had faded to a dull throbbing, and was now more annoying than anything. The doctor had given them something to clean them with so they wouldn't get infected, so that along with the bandages should be fine.

Alfred smiled. The Captain of the French ship he had been on would have never done anything like that for his men. Kirkland must have a lot of loyal followers. Even when he jumped off the boat, there hadn't been a moments hesitation to lower the smaller one, not a thought in anyone's mind to just leave him there. He bent down and laid a small kiss on a raw part of skin just before putting gauze over it.

"Ow, that hurt, imbecile." He said, not really caring. It hadn't hurt, but he could say anything he wanted. After all, not only was he the Captain of the ship, but he was a country. The one all the men on this ship belonged to, in fact. Well, everyone besides the man currently on his knees. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"From what I hear, you don't demand that kind of knowledge from anyone in the crew." He said, and left it at that. He finished with the bandage and tied it off. "If something happens to the bandage, go to the doctor, not me." He stood up. "Anything else?"

"No." Arthur turned his chair back to his desk. He was wondering how he was going to do his work with bandaged hands when he turned back around. "Actually yes, there is something you can do." He smiled when the man turned around obediently. "You can start with undoing my pants. Since I can't."

A knowing smirk on his face, Alfred stepped forward and once again knelt in front of the Captain's chair. "As you wish, sir." Just as last time, he untied the strings, but didn't go any farther. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Take off your own pants." He relaxed back in his chair, using one finger that wasn't bandaged to take himself out of his pants. But that is all he did.

Alfred stood up, slowly undoing his pants as well. He smiled, his eyes half closed, and he moved his hips in a way so they would fall down slowly, revealing his skin inch by inch. When they were pooled on the ground, he stepped out of them easily and kicked them to the side. The way things seemed to be going, he wouldn't be needing them for a while. "Like this, sir?"

"And your shirt too. I want to see all of you."

Looking directly into Arthur's eyes, he lifted the hem of his shirt up, all his movements slow and sensual. He could tell the Captain stared at one of his scars on his stomach longer than the rest of his body, but he ate it all up hungrily. The shirt went over his head, so that the only thing he was wearing was the rough string necklace he never took off. "And now?"

Thinking for a second, Arthur looked in his drawers and pulled out a small bottle of body oil. He handed it to Alfred. "Use this, and prepare yourself for this." He said, pointing to his cock that was already starting to get hard.

"Yes Captain." He went on the ground on all fours, his ass facing Arthur so he would get the best view. He opened the bottle of oil, getting some on his fingers. He looked over his shoulder so he could see his Captain's face as he rubbed his puckered entrance before slipping one finger in. Deciding to give Arthur a show, he let his eyelids fall half over his eyes and let out a low moan as he pushed his finger farther in.

"Add another finger." Arthur said, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.

"Yes," He gasped as he put his second finger in, it not being as much as a show anymore, "Sir." He added when he caught his breath. He scissored his fingers apart a little, stretching himself farther. He lowered himself down to the floor so his cheek was resting on the ground, leaving his other hand free to tug on his hard shaft.

"Don't. Only touch the back." There was a hitch of lust in Arthur's voice now, but he still didn't touch himself.

Pouting slightly, Alfred used his other hand to pull apart his cheeks instead, so that Arthur could clearly see his fingers going in his hole. He added a third finger without being asked. He gave another moan, his fingers brushing a small cluster of nerves that let pleasure explode inside him. He thrust his fingers in and out quicker, trying to find that spot again.

"Alright, take them out. Come sit on me now." Arthur couldn't stand just watching any longer. He wanted friction, pressure, _something_.

He took his fingers out, whimpering slightly at the loss. He stood up and walked the few steps to where Arthur sat, his cock standing proudly. "Are we going to do it on the chair?"

"Yes. The bed is uncomfortable for these things." He held out his hand and put it on Alfred's hip as he climbed on the chair, facing him, with each knee beside his legs. "It is a big chair. There should be enough room." He sat forward so there would be space for his errand boy.

Moving his knees till his body was pressed against Arthur's, Alfred smiled. "What I would give to find out everything that has happened on this chair." He sat down, but not on Arthur's cock, only on his legs. "Well, I am sitting on you."

"You bloody know what I mean." Arthur thrust his hips slightly, grinding their pricks together. Alfred smiled, lifting himself up again. He took one hand and grabbed a hold of his Captain's cock, positioning it at his entrance. Slowly lowering himself on it, he threw his head back as the thick head went past his tight ring of muscle.

"Ah..." Alfred moved himself lower, being filled more and more. "Mn, Arthur." He sat down, all of England's large size inside him. He bent down slightly, putting his face inches from Arthur's. "Ca-can I kiss you?"

"Call me sir." He said before putting one bandaged hand behind Alfred's head, pulling him forward to crash their lips together in a fierce kiss. He ravished his mouth with his tongue. He sucked a slightly chapped lip into his mouth, biting it slightly. Then he pulled back, "Move, already."

Alfred tensed the muscles in his legs, moving up till Arthur's manhood was almost completely out, and then slammed back down, making his own cock twitch. He opened his mouth, taking in a quick breath. He continued the movements, making it hit his prostate. He let out a moan, his head falling back. "S-sir."

He leaned back, putting his hands on Arthur's legs behind him for support. His cock was bouncing up and down in front of him, but he wasn't told to touch it, and he could only do what the Captain told him to do.

Not even caring anymore about his bandages, Arthur grabbed his crewman's length, running the fabric up and down it. Alfred gave a louder moan than all the others at the different feeling on his cock.

"You dirty errand boy. You like something up your arse, don't you?"

"Ahn, yes, yes sir, I do." He said, using his hands so he could move more, his walls contracting around Arthur's cock. The feel of the gauze on his sensitive skin was exhilarating, and Arthur kept pumping it. "Hn, Captain, ah..." He hardly knew what he was saying anymore. Alfred was amazed the chair didn't break from the force of their movements.

Arthur leaned forward as far as he could, trying to get as much of the man impaling himself on his dick as possible. "Alfred, cum for me." He whispered, mouth just inches away from his ear. He did as was commanded, letting out a scream of ecstasy, and climaxed, covering the bandaged hand with white liquid.

Alfred kept moving his hips, until England filled him up with his seed. The deck swab collapsed forward onto Arthur, lightly holding onto his shoulders. The Englishman put an arm around his back, both of them breathing hard.

After a few minutes, Alfred got up, feeling the now-soft cock slip out of him. Some cum started dripping down his leg. Arthur took his handkerchief and handed it to him.

"Are you sure about that?" Alfred asked, laughing exhaustedly. "You do realize what it will be covered with, right?" He started gathering his clothes that had somehow found their way to corners of the room.

"I am certain that would be easier to clean off than blood." He said, still holding up the piece of cloth. Alfred shrugged and took the offering, wiping the line up. Arthur watched, almost getting turned on again. Then the blond haired boy started putting his clothes back on.

"Well, I should be getting back to work, if there is nothing else you need me for. But you might want to get the doctor to look at your right bandage, now that it has gotten wet." He smiled and left to the sight of his Captain doing up his pants.


	3. Chapter 3

Luckily, the crew didn't seem to grow suspicious as to why the errand boy would disappear into the Captain's quarters for long periods of time, and return exhausted. Anything the Captain did was fine with them, it seemed.

It was after one of these sessions that Alfred was lying in his hammock, having been told to get some sleep. He swung his leg, that simple motion making the whole contraption move as well. His body was tired, there was no doubt about it, but his mind was wide awake, thoughts of his latest sword fighting lesson with Aiber and his latest request from the Captain still playing around behind his closed eyelids. One of the other men in the room was snoring, but he had grown used to the sound, having slept in the same room with ten other men for the last couple of months. Or had it only been a month?

Suddenly there was a loud noise from outside. A cry and a bell. All the men that had been sleeping a second ago were now falling out of their hammocks, ready to fight. Alfred followed, sword in hand. If there was going to be a fight, he would at least help.

On deck, there were twenty men, and none of them appeared to be part of the crew from the Victory. He looked to the side and saw the reason. They were also pirates, but that fact didn't change anything. They weren't here for a hand shake.

Immediately all of the crew started fighting as hard as they could. They weren't used to being on this side of the ambush, but this was their home and they would protect it as much as they could. Alfred pulled out his sword, not completely sure what to do. But, having no idea what was going on had never stopped him before.

He was about to join in a fight with a nasty looking guy, but a different man came at him suddenly. Alfred blocked a swipe he had barely seen coming. He had always done his practices in daylight, but now it was almost pitch black. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep up blocking the blows like this, so decided that a good offence was the best defence and stabbed at where the man had been a second ago. It was obvious he was more skilled at this, but Alfred had determination. He also knew that there was a floor board close to here that was loose, and if he got this guy exactly where he wanted him...

He retreated slightly, looking like he was giving up. The man stepped forward, sensing victory. Perfect. Alfred stomped his foot down, and the end of the floor board came up, catching the man in the crotch. The look on the man's face was almost comedic, and Alfred would have laughed if he wasn't fearing for his life.

He put his sword under his double chin, unsure what to do. If they had still been fighting, he would have had no problem killing this man, but this was now cold blood. He kicked away the sword that had fallen to the ground, however.

Someone behind him fell, knocking Alfred off balance for a second. But that was enough. The man knocked away Alfred's sword, and reached into his jacket. Eyes wide, the blond watched in slow motion as his opponent pulled out a small dagger. Almost faster than he could watch, it glinted in the moonlight as it was thrust forward, impaling him in the stomach.

His awareness of the movement around him stopped as pain blossomed in his gut. Alfred lurched forward, grabbing for the knife. He saw the man's mouth curl into a smile as he was about to take it out to finish the job.

That smile was still on his face as a cutlass slid under his chin and continued, completely decapitating him.

Alfred hardly noticed that his opponent was killed as he fell forward, only to be caught by a strong hand. He was placed on the floor face up, so he could see Arthur's concerned face. "Shit! Are you alright? I don't think I can get you to the Doctor's now."

The knife still in his stomach, Alfred smiled weakly. "I'm fine. Hurts less than -ugh- having sex with you." He gave a small laugh at his joke, only to have his face twist in pain. His breath was coming in gasps. "Behind you!"

Arthur turned quickly, stabbing the man through his chest that had been trying to sneak up on him. "I have to get you somewhere." He glanced around the surrounding area, needing a hiding place quickly.

"No, it's fine, sir, your men need you." He closed his eyes in pain, feeling like his stomach was on fire. He clenched his teeth, and with one hand, grabbed the handle of the knife. He pulled it out as fast as he could, and cried out in pain.

Arthur suddenly put his arms under Alfred's legs and back, picking him up. He heard him groan from being moved, but he had to do it. England took him to some boxes that were nearby, putting him behind them as carefully as he could. "Now shut up and put pressure on that wound." He stood up, turning around with his sword raised. He stood his ground, making sure no one could get behind those boxes.

Alfred lay there, hand on his wound. To not make any sounds, he put some of his shirt in his mouth. It was also something he could bite down on to help deal with the pain. He could hear the battle going on, but had no clue what was happening. Damn, he was still loosing blood. He could feel his head start to feel light, and his eyes want to close. Fuck, it hurt!

Soon, the remaining enemy pirates fled back to their own ship. Arthur threw down his cutlass and moved the boxes, calling someone over for help. Alfred was looking pale, but he was still alive. "You take his feet. Keep pressure on it, Alfred." They lifted him up as carefully as possible, and he could tell that Alfred would have gasped in pain had he not been biting his shirt. They took him to the small room the Doctor had for wounded, where he was treating a small cut on a man's arm.

As soon as he saw Alfred, he cleared a spot to lay him down. He lifted up his shirt and nodded to the boy that helped him. "He'll need stitches. Let's hope it didn't get any vital organs."

England took one of Alfred's hands as the Doctor took out a needle. He put some more of his shirt in his mouth. "Bite on it, as hard as you can, and squeeze my hand." The blond gave a small nod, and then shut his eyes as the first stitch was done. He could hardly feel the needle go through his skin, it was just the wound being touched that hurt the most. He squeezed Arthur's hand and clenched his teeth, waiting for it to be over.

"Last one, and... there." The boy cut the thread, and it was over. He put a bandage on it, and as they were moving Alfred to one of the beds on the side of the room, he fell into peaceful sleep.

Arthur grabbed a chair, putting it beside Alfred's bed and sitting down. The man that had helped carry him in - Phillip, he saw now - stood behind him. "You know, Cap'n, last year I dislocated my shoulder. The Doc had to put it back in, which hurt a hell of a lot more than getting it out did. And, through that whole time, you didn't hold _my_ hand." He said with a smile. He wasn't accusing. No one on this ship would accuse the Captain of anything.

Smiling, he replied. "Alright, perhaps I have grown a little fond of my errand boy. Is that a crime?" He kept watching his sleeping face, glad that it was without pain for the moment.

Phillip gave a small laugh. "No, it's not a crime. It's a good thing, actually. Makes you seem more human than the God we all think you are." He gave England a light pat on the shoulder to show he meant no harm by his words and headed out of the sick bay. The Doctor was still there, attending to minor cuts and scrapes. But Arthur was determined not to leave until his errand boy woke up.

.oOo.

It was a few hours later when Alfred woke up. The sun had not yet risen, and everyone had gone to bed, but his Captain was still there. "Ah, finally awake, are you? Gave us all a right scare there." He never had been one for bedside-manners.

Alfred gave a tired smile. "Well, looks like your stuck with me for a while longer." He let his head fall into the hard pillow. "Seems like I can't be your 'errand boy' for a few days, too."

An elegant eyebrow raised, England looked around the room. "There is no one here but us. I see no reason why you can't be my 'errand boy' right now." He said with a smile. It was warmer, lately. Not so ruthless.

A shallow laugh, so as not to make his wound hurt more. "Sir, I cannot think of any position where I'm not lying flat on my back, and I can't do much else if I don't want to rip my stitches." Even after being stabbed, he still had the same cocky smile.

With a seductive smirk, England stood up and bent over, kissing Alfred passionately. Then he carefully lifted a leg, putting it on the bed. While distracting the blond with his lips, he manoeuvred his body so that he was straddling him on the small bed. Then he pulled away. "I can think of one." And with that, he pulled down his pants slightly so they rested under his hips, and slipped three of his fingers in his mouth.

At this point, there was no chance of misunderstanding what the Captain meant to do. He looked straight at Alfred as he wet his own fingers with saliva. Alfred grinned, hoping that this wouldn't tear his stitches.

Taking his fingers out of his mouth, Arthur put them at his own entrance, determined to give his 'lover' as much of a show as he had given him that first time. The first finger went in, and he gasped at the strange feeling. Not that he had never been on bottom before, it had just been a long time. Probably about 50 years, if he remembered correctly. The stupid Frenchman hadn't given him a choice.

"Sir, is it alright if I touch myself?" He asked, already knowing the answer. But he still had to ask, because he was sure to get more turned on than he had been in a while.

"No. Errand boys must be -uhn...- patient. You can wait your turn." He put another finger in, loosening the tight muscle. Damn, he had forgotten how good this felt. Still thrusting his fingers in and out, he sat up so he could use his hand to untie Alfred's pants. He took out his cock, which was already getting hard. He bent back down so he was leaning on his hand, hovering over top of Alfred. He added the third finger and gave a small moan, trying to find that place that the bloody frog always found so easily.

Alfred got his arms underneath him, so he could lean up and kiss those panting lips. A few seconds later, Arthur took out his fingers quickly and put his hand on the blond's chest, pushing him back down. "Don't lean up. You could rip your stitches." Since he had already pulled his fingers out, he figured it was time, so England grabbed Alfred's cock, lining it up with his hole.

As he pushed back, feeling the intruding appendage, Arthur leaned down, kissing that delectable mouth. He heard Alfred groan when he was in him all the way. Not giving himself time to adjust, England started moving his body, giving him pleasure from behind. He also rubbed his cock on Alfred's lower stomach, not having a hand to jerk himself off.

Reaching down, Alfred grabbed England's needy cock. "Do you want -mn- me to help you with this? Captain?" He said, slightly breathless. Actually being inside Arthur was so amazing. He couldn't decide which he liked better, being on the 'bottom' or the 'top'.

"Yes, fucking yes. And call me -ahh- Arthur." England said, closing his eyes, with his head back. So possibly he was playing the part, but it did feel like heaven. And, for some reason, when he had a prick up his arse, his mouth could never stop making sounds. Especially when it hit his sweet spot just like it did and _oh!_

Alfred wanted so badly to thrust deeper, but the pain in his stomach told him that even this wasn't good for fresh stitches. He suddenly felt his Captain tighten around his shaft, almost bringing him to the edge. His thumb rubbed the underside of his cock, following a vein. His head fell back onto the hard pillow, unable to keep it up any longer. After this, he thought, he was going back to sleep.

Arthur moved his hips as fast as he could, trying to get as much pleasure from this as possible. He knew that it was probably a bad idea to be doing this when Alfred had just been stabbed a few hours ago, but right now he just wanted release. A few more hits to his prostate, and he figured he would have it. He leaned down to get a different angle, putting his hands on his errand boy's chest. Damn, it pissed him off somehow that he was still wearing a shirt.

"Arthur, Arthur," Alfred mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear, "Fuck, so good, Arthur. Hn, I'm going to cum." He tightened his grip on Arthur's shaft, wanting to make him cum as well. He could tell England picked up his pace, and amazingly he went even deeper. The blond pirate bent down farther so their lips met, mouths opening immediately. As their tongues explored the now-familiar mouths, Alfred finished, filling up England till he was overflowing.

The feeling of being filled with Alfred's seed made Arthur climax, covering his hand, a little getting on his shirt. He moved up, so that his cock fell out, and laid down on top of Alfred, making sure that he wasn't on his wound. They lay there, catching their breath. After a few minutes, Arthur opened his mouth. "I suppose I should go back to my quarters." But he didn't move, still laying on him.

Alfred lifted one of his hands, putting it on England's back. "Well then, there would be a mutiny. Because I want you to stay here."

An exhausted smiled appeared on Arthur's face, that his errand boy couldn't see. "Well, we wouldn't want a mutiny."

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Alright, one more chapter to go! Then this short story is finished!

So, just thought I should give you all some information. The ship Victory was a real ship (which looks sexy! I never thought a ship could look sexy but it can!) and it was Captained by a man named Edward England. Once I found out his last name was England, I figured I just had to use it.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a reason countries never fall in love with humans. Not a rule or anything, just something they all knew and accepted. Countries can live for hundreds or thousands of years. Of course, humans only lived for about 80, if they were lucky. This would cause problems, for obvious reasons. The time they could be together would seem as it was just a moment for the country, and even then, the human would wonder why they never aged.

Arthur hadn't realized his own feelings, until he woke up one morning next to the cold body of his errand boy.

The Doctor couldn't find out why he had died, because they didn't have the resources on the ship. England didn't really care why he had died. He was dead, and nothing was going to change that fact. This was the first and last time any of the crew saw their Captain cry.

He continued being the Captain for a few more years, but he no longer had any heart for it. Instead he focused his energies on the new colony, who was still a cute little boy.

"This makes a sound like a ssssssnake. Ssssss." He told the boy who was so much smaller than him.

"Ssssss, like that, Iggy?" He smiled, his chubby cheeks looking so cute. He had an annoying piece of hair that refused to go down, and it was currently bouncing up and down in his happiness. He was almost never seen not smiling.

France walked in, loud and boisterous as always. "Arthur, I demand you give the child to _moi_. You are a closet pervert, and I am worried about his safety." He reached for him, but the blue-eyed boy tried biting his fingers, laughing.

"Well, he doesn't want to go with you, Francis. Go away before you molest him." England held him away, sheltering him. France pouted, but still left, needing to take care of the other boy they had found recently.

"Alright, now for T."

"Iggy, why don't I have a name? I want a name!" His eyes sparkled as he looked up at his caretaker.

For a second, Arthur recognized that look. With his blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, he looked like... England smiled, even though there was pain in his eyes. "Alfred. Your name can be Alfred." He kissed the top of his blond head, remembering his errand boy.

"Yay! My name is Alfred! Hey, Iggy, why are you crying?" He asked, looking up. There were definitely tears rolling down his face, even as he smiled down at 'Alfred'.

"Just remembering someone, is all." He put his fingers in that soft hair. "Just remembering."

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That's all! Hope everyone liked it!


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